Never Far
by Medliii
Summary: Even in a land protected by the Triforce, evil will never truly be gone forever. When Lorule's history threatens to repeat itself—Princess Hilda and Ravio soon learn the burdens that come with having a power so holy. By the aid of those more experienced, however, they might be able to save Lorule's future—and even change the fate of the person closest to Hilda's heart.
1. Never Far

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to my next multi-chapter fic, _Never Far._

Right off the bat, I want to state that this story is a sequel to my other Zelda fic, _To Save You_. If you haven't read it, that's perfectly alright, however—as knowledge of the previous plot is _not _required. For the most part, this story can be read as a stand-alone. There are blatant spoilers for said previous work, however, as well as major spoilers for _A Link Between Worlds._ If you're interested in finishing either for yourself, I strongly encourage you to do so before you start reading!

For those wondering, I've set an update schedule for myself this time, and new chapters will be going out bi-weekly—around the first and fifteenth of every month.

Other than that, I'd like to thank every single one of you for your interest. _To Save You_ got way better reception than I ever dreamed, and I hope this story will as well. Thank you all so much for reading, and reviews are always appreciated. Enjoy!

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><p><span>Never Far<span>

A young man and woman stood next to each other. They were in a strange place—one unfamiliar to her; it was an endless saltwater flat. Above them—the twilight sky went on forever, it even reflected upon the ground below. The breeze was soft, making his striped scarf flow in the wind. Content, he gazed off in the distance; she gazed up at the sky. It was so beautiful, yet it made her sad. To her, something so pure did not feel real. It was after a moment, but her attention was torn away by a voice. The young man at her side spoke.

"I wonder—how many times have we met now?"

At his question, the woman was perplexed. No, not in realization of her answer, but rather—by the fact that she did not_ have_ an answer. She looked away from the sky—to the boy at her side. "We've… met _before_?" she asked curiously.

Under the purple bunny mask he wore, she could see his expression grow the slightest bit wider. He was smiling. "Ah—yes yes!" he said excitedly, "Many times, don't you remember?"

Thinking of the fact, it made her depressed for reasons she didn't know. She shook her head. "I don't."

"Hmm," he pondered, "Well—that's okay!" he nodded, seeming all-too content, "Please don't feel sad about it."

She tilted her head to the side, wondering how he knew she was melancholic. What a strange person. "Who…_ are_ you?" she asked after a few moments, wondering if the question would upset him, as it certainly upset her.

Despite the tension she felt in the air—it seemed all but nonexistent to him. "I'm Ravio, of course!" he explained cheerfully.

She paused, her heart skipping a beat with his title. "Ravio," she repeated, wondering why that simple name made her feel so happy. In the end, however, she could only conclude, "I don't know you."

Despite of how tactless her words were, Ravio only laughed. "Well, that's alright! Even if you don't remember me, even if you choose to turn away—I know we'll always meet each other again, Hilda." He knew her name. So, even if she didn't know _him_—he certainly did know _her_. "And again, and again, and again," he went on.

For some reason, his words resonated in her. She believed him, however unsure of what he was actually speaking on. The young woman nodded. Regardless, she had to ask, "But, why is that?"

He held his palm up; there were three upside-down triangles on the backside of his hand. "We're bound to each other forever." He tilted his head to the side, staring at her with a content smile.

She looked down to her own hand, seeing the same mark herself. "Because of these?" she asked, to which he nodded affirmatively. "But, if that really is the case—why is it only _you _can remember?" Hilda inquired, though not suspiciously.

"Eh heh," he laughed softly, seeming entertained. He pointed to the mark on his hand, to the single solid triangle. "Wisdom, remembrance—they go hand in hand," he held out his palms now, as if demonstrating the fact, "you see? It's just as courage and baring do for my princess." He seemed so certain of what he was saying. "I'm born knowing there's something—something I have to do for you. Just as_ you'll _always have to live baring the burdens I set upon your shoulders." Sounding nothing less than understanding, he made sure to tell her, "It's only natural you'd want to forget."

Questioning how he understood so much—including her and her mindset, Hilda asked, "I… I _want _to forget?"

Ravio perked up, "Ah—but, don't worry!" He nodded frantically. "That won't stop us from always being together! Forever and ever."

"I see," she replied softly, confused, though somehow enlightened. Again, despite the fact that she still had no idea who he really was—there wasn't a doubt in her mind that he spoke truthfully. She paused, however, plagued heavily by the new question she now found herself wondering. "That's… a_ good _thing, isn't it?"

"Well—_I_ certainly think so!" he laughed. The sound was enough to make her want to smile—but regardless, a terrible feeling was hovering over her. She couldn't comply. The girl put a hand to her chest; for some reason, her heart was throbbing.

"Then why," she asked softly, "why do I feel so _sad?_"

This was a question he didn't reply to; it was quiet. She grew tense—having the strangest feeling that her company did, in fact, know the reason. It was after a moment, but the purple-clad boy at her side stepped in front of her. He looked at her, she looked back at him.

"Because, Hilda, with every meeting—a parting is sure to follow," he finally said, "I'll always have to leave you." Slowly, the boy reached up, taking either side of hood in his hands. He pulled it over his head, revealing his face. He had violet hair, olive eyes, a bright smile—and he was _still _unfamiliar to her. Yet, as she gazed at this new face, she could feel her heart race faster—only to break in that very same moment. It was a nostalgic feeling, and an unbearable feeling. "But I promise, I'll never be far from you."

"You think you've failed me," he went on to explain, his tone less lively this time, "but you haven't." His voice seemed reassuring, so very reassuring. He reached out, placing both his hands on either side of her face. Should she have been alarmed, she wondered? No, his touch was euphoric, it was warm. Softly, he repeated, "You_ haven't_ failed me, Hilda."

The moment those words echoed through her pointed ears, the girl froze, her eyes went wide. Suddenly, overwhelming images flashed in her mind. They were images of this boy—this very same boy—always meeting with the most terrible of fates.

She saw blood, she saw horror; lighting and sparks, rocks and wreckage piled over him, a sword impaled through his chest—and any number of unimaginable fates from there. However terrible, it all felt somehow familiar. She soon realized, this was not the first time she'd seen these things happen. Suddenly, those images came to an abrupt stand-still. A new sight flashed in her mind. While it wasn't as horrid as what she'd just witnessed, there was hardly a sight that petrified her more.

It was his image, his simple image—painted and surrounded by a frame. This sight _did _surprise her. She'd not seen it before.

She came back to reality, feeling the boy's hands leave her face. It was a cold feeling, a lonely feeling. She looked at him, eyes wide and fearful. "No," she wanted to say, but her voice was all since lost.

However in contradiction with what he'd say next, this boy only smiled at her—_for_ her. It was a soft expression, a genuine one, one that had not left his face from the very moment they found themselves in this place, and even long before that.

"I've died," he said, "and I'm_ so sorry._"

So against her will—Ravio turned around. He began walking away. Hilda's hand twitched, telling her to reach out to him. After a moment, she did—but such a reach was only seconds too slow. She couldn't take a step forward, she couldn't follow. She was halted in place. Every inch farther away he got—Hilda fell deeper into desolation. "Come back!" she wanted to yell—but the words were lost in her throat even yet. There was nothing she could do besides endure the sight of his figure fading from view. She could only stand there—her arm stuck at a painful reach. "Don't go!" she wanted to yell with no avail. "No, stop!" her thoughts pleaded, though his image had all but disappeared now. "Don't go—don't leave me!"

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><p>"Don't—!" a young woman screamed, jolting awake in her bed. She felt an unpleasant and cold sweat dripping down the side of her forehead. Coming to reality, she looked around—seeing the comforting and familiar sight of her bedroom. The sun had only just risen—basking herself and her covers in a warm light. She exhaled deeply, trying to slow her breathing—now realizing her safety. It was all just a dream.<p>

"Princess!" a voice soon called in return. She recognized the sound instantly, having assumed she'd hear as much. Practically bursting through her door, a familiar figure came into her view. The blue-striped scarf around his neck flowed freely, as he was so frantic to rush towards her aid. The girl calmed slightly, however—just seeing him, this person whom she was bound to forever.

Soon noticing no danger surrounding her—despite the scream that resonated from her lungs moments prior—the young man could only gaze to her with a weak expression. She look exhausted, she looked scared. It was a sight he'd become all-too accustomed to, as of late. The princess put a hand to her heart—as if begging him to come closer. Naturally, he did. Taking a few steps, he walked to her bedside. Sitting down, he asked, "You had that dream again, didn't you?" To which she nodded, looking to him with frightened eyes. His expression weakened even more, knowing how much these thoughts haunted her.

"Why?" she asked, sounding truly perplexed. She leaned forward, as if she was asking_ him _personally for the answer. "Why am I seeing these things? What am I supposed to do?"

Sadly, he didn't know the reason. He could only reach out, putting a gentle hand over hers as it rested on the bed. It was a comforting feeling, as it had always been. "It was just a dream, Princess. Let your heart be at ease now," he asked—but, deep-down, they both knew that wasn't an option.

Instead of compliance, the young woman winced slightly, holding her chest tighter. "I'm… I'm scared," the princess confessed weakly, as she gripped his hand in return.

The young man just looked at her for a moment, however, entertaining a sad expression. He wished so much that he could help her with this—but such a solution was out of his grasp. He did all he could—returning the gesture, placing his other hand upon hers. "I know, Princess. I know," he replied softly, "I wish we knew why this dream haunts you so often—but for the time being, we simply don't. As much as I detest the thought," —continuing to make her suffer like this— "we have no _choice_ but to wait."

His statement made her solemn, she almost looked as though she wanted to cry. However, there was soon a glint of hopefulness in her eye, as he gripped her hand in security. "But I promise you, my princess—we will figure it out," he said, "I won't let you carry this burden endlessly."

However empty his statement seemed thus-far—her heart had listened to him in total belief. She looked down at her lap and nodded.

It was after a moment, but they both let go of one another. Needing to make sure, he asked, "Are you going to be alright for today?" To which she nodded, however sadly. He wasn't quite convinced, but knowing he couldn't stay long, he replied, "I'll be just down the hall if you need me." The young man stood, walking back towards the door. "You should get ready soon," he told her, "We have a busy day."

Again, she nodded. He turned, about to take his leave—as he was halted just one more time. "Ah," the princess called softly, baring a new kind of tone. Despite the drops of sweat sliding down her forehead yet, and her the overwhelming anxiety she felt—she found a bit of gratitude somewhere. Now entertaining a sweet expression, one she'd always have given him otherwise—the princess put her hands to her heart. "Good morning, Link."

In return, he looked back to her with a warm expression. "Good morning, Princess Zelda."


	2. And I, You

A/N: Hope you're all ready for some fluffity fluff, cause that's what you're gonna get!

As always, thank you for reading. Please don't forget to leave a review as well! They keep me inspired and let me know you're all interested in what I'm writing.

Enjoy this chapter!

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><p><span>And I, You<span>

A gloved palm wrapped itself around the stem of a violet rose. Perhaps it was cynical to rip something so beautiful from its resting place, but it was difficult for her to resist that charming color. She leaned down, taking in its pungent aroma; it smelled beautiful and alluring. As she pulled it from the bush, however, her finger got caught on one of the thorns. "Ah," she said soft and reflexively as it pricked her. It'd already been torn, but she lost her hold on the flower. It fell to the ground.

Before she could even think of reaching for it, however, another hand came into sight—one poking out of a fuchsia sleeve. Before she knew it, a familiar figure was kneeling in front of her. He wore a tunic and pointed hat of the same color. Perhaps his most notably feature was the bunny ears he adorned on his head, however. Soon, this young man placed his hand to his chest; he posed dramatically.

"Oh, dear princess! It would appear as though you've dropped—ow!" He couldn't finish his well-prepared and silly entrance. The same thorn that'd punctured her moments before had its same way with him. Dang, and he was supposed to be the hero today! Naturally, the princess could only laugh, however—cupping a hand over her mouth. Despite his failure, that still counted as a "mission success" in his book.

He reached down for the rose once again—this time, more carefully. He was prompt to cautiously scratch away the few thorns it bared, pulling them off. "There!" he chimed, as the flower was now safe. The young man promptly tucked her flowing locks of hair behind her ear, as well as the rose itself. His hand lingered there for a moment as he looked her over in admiration. He let out a, "heh", as if to say, "just perfect."

The princess reached up, taking his hand in hers. She brought his bleeding finger towards her lips—giving him a healing kiss. "Good morning, Ravio."

Nothing less than gratified, he did the same to her wound. Quite in contrast to her gentle nature, however, he kissed her finger with a loud "muah!" He grinned cheerfully. "Good morning, Hilda!"

Without need for the question of "will you accompany me?", Hilda laced her delicate hands around his upper arm. She turned, the two of them now walking back down the path she'd been strolling. "And to what to I owe this morning's pleasure?" she asked, "Surely you didn't run all the way to the castle gardens from your shop to dote over my clumsiness. Was business really so slow that you decided to pay a visit the little people you once knew?" she laughed.

"Prin_cess,_" he gasped. In his over-exaggerated defense, Ravio put a hand to his chest again. "I'd never think you as, 'a little person'! I just remembered you saying you had nothing scheduled this morning, and I'd gladly skip a busy day's work for you _any_ time!"

"Ah," she gave a sly smile, "so you're just truant," she concluded—despite already knowing it wasn't unlike Ravio to play hooky to see her (or for most any reason he could find, in fact.)

He laughed, guilty as charged. "Well, you know me! Never 'working hard', just hardly working!" he winked at her, seeming anything but bothered by the fact.

"On the contrary," said Hilda, with a certain fondness in her voice. "I think I could learn a thing or two from you."

"No, no!" he shook his head frantically. "I could _never _be as hard working as my princess!" Somehow, she knew he'd say that. She gave a small smile to accompany the sigh that escaped her lips—to which glanced over to her. The thought led him towards the true reason he'd come that morning—or at least, the main reason.

He leaned towards Hilda a bit, looking at her face—observing her. "Hmm…" He spoke again, though much softer now. "You have dark bags under your eyes," he stated, "Were you up late again?" Guilty, she nodded in return. "Working?" he continued, though he didn't think that was really the case.

Surely enough, Hilda replied, "Not exactly."

"Did you not sleep well?" his interrogation progressed. Hilda shook her head to say, "I didn't". As the princess confirmed these suspicions, he gave a weak smile in return. Seeming all too aware, he asked, "And it wasn't just bad dreams, I take it?"

"Ah—not at all," Hilda replied on the contrary. She gave a shy smile. "I've not had a nightmare in nearly five years." She'd only had wonderful dreams—often, of the very person she spoke with. She paused, however—hesitant to confess the truth, but wanting to all the same. "But dreams at all are something I can't seem to see right now." He understood her meaning without need of explanation.

"You're still anxious about tomorrow, aren't you?" Ravio finally asked. She looked away, signaling "yes". He put his hand over hers, as he held his arm yet. "Don't be, Hilda."

Now the bright age of twenty-one, it was finally the year that Hilda would be accepting her duties and title as Queen of Lorule. In her father's old and bed-ridden state, it was more than time for her to take up the role regardless. Tomorrow was her inauguration day.

"Ah," she exhaled in return, seeming less than convinced, "right, right. I'm fretting over nothing." Despite her feigned confidence, however—her grip on Ravio's arm tightened softly.

"Not at all. It's only natural you'd be nervous," he replied, shrugging a bit, "but I promise—you're more than ready, Hilda. This is a good thing!" Perhaps insensitively, he made mention to a glaring factor, "I mean, think of all you've already done—just as_ princess._ It's more than your ancestors ever dreamed of doing!"

She laughed a bit. Part of her was unsure if that made her feel better, though it still held true. "Well, if you think so, who am I to disagree?"

He giggled, accepting her praise. "Besides," he said, "you practically rule the kingdom as it is now. How much could really change?" Following with a cute smile, he poked his pointer finger to the circlet on her forehead. "I think the main difference is the crown you'll be wearing!" She giggled with his small touch, cupping a hand to her dark lips—to which Ravio's voice was overflowing with confidence at this point. "And, I mean," he continued, "it's not like your people are helpless anymore. Things are moving along great, and that can only continue from here. I know it!"

Hearing that reassurance, Hilda paused, stopping in her tracks. She let her mind and gaze wander for a moment—thinking on all he spoke of.

While it'd been five years since the restoration of Lorule's Triforce, it seemed as though it should've been much longer than that. It was only five years ago, that the people of Lorule were broken—and dying out faster every single day. It was only five years ago that the plains were so unsafe to walk—even she, the princess, couldn't go anywhere without fear of assassination (in fact, that threat might've even been more serious in her case.) It was only five years ago that Lorule was literally crumbling to pieces—to the point where they feared the ground would fall out from underneath their feet at any second, just like the chasms that divided the land. It was only five years ago that most all Lorulean hearts were clouded with anger and despair. It was only five years ago that the sky faded from melancholic shades of orange to gray. But now, that was all in the past. Everything was different.

Lorule thrived.

Convalesce Village, formally known as "Thieves Town" was reestablished as a living district—and a desirable one at that. Crime rates had decreased more than Hilda would have ever imagined, even in a world of peace and optimism. Transportation was not only safe, but more at the disposal of those who required it; it was encouraged to travel. Such was a reality was on account of the few bridges that'd been built between the seemingly bottomless chasms. People were loved, and gave that love in return.

The sky was no longer eternal shades of depression, it was clear and blue. It was a fact that even overwhelmed Hilda with happiness even yet, in the present.

Lorule_ thrived._

Taking her eyes away from the elegant sky above, she looked back to Ravio—her gaze locked in a loving stare. He put his free arm behind his head, seeming curiosity. "What is it?" he asked.

After a moment, Hilda only shook her head lightly. "Nothing," she said with a smile, thinking exactly the opposite. He seemed to gather otherwise, though—growing curious with that happy little expression she wore. Hilda only put a hand to her heart, however; it beat fast with gratitude.

If there was ever a person who she and Lorule's owed their thanks to, it was him. There was, of course, the fact that he had a great hand in the initial restoration of the Triforce. Somehow, however, he'd since managed to go even far beyond that for their land.

In the past five years, he'd been just as busy as her—if not more-so. Being the natural entrepreneur he was—it didn't take him long to reestablish his item-selling business in Lorule. He worked with his adoptive father, Lorule's Master Smith, to create and market not only weapons, but most anything needed for Lorule's construction. Needless to say, such a service was in high demand—and with more than just a single customer, it was a huge success. By the time he was only eighteen, he'd started opening up a chain of his shops around Lorule.

While such actions were gracious in and on their own, he did not stop there either. A large part of his proceeds went towards charity, as well as reconstructive causes (perhaps bitterly at first, though he always knew it was the right thing to do.)

Despite being outcasted for much of his life, he'd since grown to be one of the most admired men in Lorule. If he were to be asked why, he'd say it was all unconditional—and blame it upon the mark on his hand. Hilda knew that wasn't the case at all, however. Despite being barer of the Triforce of Wisdom, Hilda thought him to be rather dense at times.

Regardless, he was admired by none more-so than herself. There was not a person she loved more, and adored with all her heart.

The princess took few steps closer, until the space was all but non-existent between them; she put her hands on his chest, resting her head against his shoulder affectionately. He seemed caught off guard, but happily wrapped his arms around her regardless. Cuddling her close, he asked, "Eh-heh—what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," she said once more. To which he shrugged a bit, not complaining in the slightest.

The two held a comfortable silence for a few moments. It was one they'd only ever find with the other.

"I'm so glad to have you by my side," the princess eventually whispered. After a few cherished seconds of being in his arms, the princess brought her gaze up to look him in the eye. Ravio put his palm to her cheek; he brushed the back of his fingers against her soft skin. Chills ran down Hilda's spine as she felt the cold sensation of metal; he wore a ring. An engagement ring.

"My_ future king."_

Hilda's words sent chill down his spine. Even with reality spoken right to him, he could hardly believe the truth. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest with joy all the same. But enthusiastic as he ever was, he could only reply, "I couldn't agree more—my future queen!"

She paused for a moment, seeming hesitant. A look of concern passed over her visage. No matter how he'd grown, as he most certainly had—there was something about his eternally-innocent expression that reminded her of the boy she knew all those years ago. Needing to make sure all was right on his end, she asked, "You promise... _you're _not apprehensive, yes?"

Almost reflexively, he nodded, "of course!" Relief washed over Hilda, as if she'd just been given a sedative for whatever ailed her. "Do you really think I'd ask for your hand if I wasn't ready for all the responsibilities that came with it?" he teased her with a wink, "Surely—you don't think I'm_ that_ ignorant?"

The look on her face morphed to a blissful one with his confirmation. She laughed, "Ah, no no." Truly, the cowardly little bunny from years ago had long-since grown up. He was still that same happy-go-lucky rabbit, of course, but he was also the only person she felt truly safe with.

"It's just… almost like a dream," Hilda finally explained, "A future with you."

With a bright expression, he reassured her, "Well—that's one dream you'll never have to sleep to see!"

Gazing at that same smile that healed her so many times before—she knew his words rang true. "Perhaps tomorrow isn't so overwhelming, knowing you'll be by my side."

It eased him to hear her say as much. "Everything will be alright," he said softly, "I promise."

It was silent between the two of them for a few moments; they only looked at one another in trust and admiration. Timidly, the princess stood on her tip-toes slightly; he'd grown taller, after all. Leaning closer, she closed her eyes. It was as if she was asking, "indulge my request?"

Ravio just smiled, adoring this affectionate nature he'd come to know. Again, he placed his hand to her cheek, admiring those soft and angelic features. Hilda expected she'd soon feel the soft and welcoming sensation of his lips on hers, that is—until a loud and uncalled-for squawking echoed in the air.

Both Ravio and Hilda knew that sound was right away—but were caught off guard still, and split apart instantly. After all, as princess—it'd be inappropriate for Hilda to show any kind of public display of affection. However, their newly-added company was not of any consequence.

"S-Sheerow!" Ravio shouted in annoyance. He stamped his foot, catching sight of his other life-long companion. Despite his frustration, Ravio held his arm out for the bird to perch on. After all, he wasn't petite enough to rest only on his finger anymore. He, too, had grown—to around the size of a raven. Blushing in embarrassment, Ravio said, "This better be important!"

Affirmatively, the creature chirped. There was a little letter attached to Sheerow left leg. Ravio untied it, soon reading it over. The look on his face soon fell so a mix of bother and depression. "Aw, man," he looked to Sheerow, who'd since left his arm and was now floating at his side, "I wanted to spend the morning with Hilda."

"Hmm." With a weak smile, Hilda asked, "You have to leave?"

"Yeah," he gave a heavy sigh, "guess I mixed up some orders yesterday." Ravio shrugged, "Y'know, for someone so 'wise', I sure make a lot of mistakes. I'm really gonna get an ear-full from Dad this time, aren't I?" —The Master Smith, that was. Sheerow chirped frantically; that was a yes. Ravio put a palm to his forehead and took Hilda's hand. "Bid me farewell, my darling! This might be the last time we ever meet!" he said dramatically.

"Oh, never you worry," Hilda laughed. "But… if you're _truly_ concerned, you could always leave your scarf with me," Hilda hinted, though not at all for the same excuse she'd tell him next. "I'm sure the Master Smith will spare you if he knows you need to come and retrieve it tomorrow."

He perked up, understanding exactly what she was asking. "Goodness! You're right! That's a _perfect_ idea." Happy to oblige, he unraveled the striped garment he always wore. Despite its age, it was anything up old and tattered. For not the first time in their lives, he wrapped it around Hilda's neck. He grinned; she looked as cute as a baby Maiamai in it! "Take care of it, now."

"I will," she said fondly. Regardless, knowing it wasn't best to keep him longer, the princess stepped towards Ravio again. She hugged him, he hugged back tightly. "Off you go," she said, pulling away, though notably still in his arms.

He exhaled with a laugh. "Alright, alright."

Despite this conclusion—there was a small notion between the two of them that their day's business was not yet over. In the very same posture as moments prior, both the princess and merchant gazed at one another. Again, she stood on her tip-toes as he leaned forward, too. Theirs was a kiss as gentle and meaningful as the last words they'd tell one another on that day.

"I love you, Ravio."

"And I, you."


	3. Two Worlds

Two Worlds

"Stay awake, stay awake," a weak voice echoed in the back of his mind. He wasn't particularly tired, he'd gotten a full-night's rest that prior day. Yet, for some reason—as he stood at-attention in this boring and dull hall, the boy could feel his eye-lids growing heavier by the second. Once again, his pestering thoughts echoed in only his mind, "C'mon, Link, you have a job to do! You have… a job."

And wouldn't you guess—before he knew it, he'd dozed off.

Needless to say, that morning's comment of "a busy day's work" should not have been taken in seriousness. When she wasn't plagued with meetings, papers to sign, or other demanding regal duties—Princess Zelda's job was only this. She was to occupy her throne and be at attention should royal matters call. Perhaps he found it dull, but to such a free spirit as her's, he knew the boredom was increasingly more tolling.

However, it was only after slouching (nearly falling over entirely,) did Link jolt upright. He stumbled without coordination, shaking his head, instantly feeling embarrassed. Oh goddesses, she'd seen that, hadn't she? Quickly, he looked over his shoulder, laughing. "I-I—!" he started stumbling out an excuse, only to have his words suddenly halted. His eyes went wide. Oh goddesses.

"Not again!" he whined.

Zelda was not sitting in her throne. She'd "wandered" off again. This was the real reason he shouldn't have fallen asleep.

"Princess!" he shouted instantly, his voice echoing in the otherwise empty throne room. Thank goodness that was the case, too. Were Lady Impa here, he'd be in more trouble than he could ever even imagine. Even the wrath of Ganon was no match of Zelda's enraged advisor. "Princess Zelda!"

Panicked, he looked around the back of her throne. Nope, nothing. He looked behind the dark-red curtain hanging from the windows as well, still nothing. Those same satin curtains were swaying in the wind, however, quite unlike when he'd fallen asleep.

He peeked out the open window; the jump was manageable for her, not far from the ground at all. Surely enough, there were little heel footprints on the grass.

He let out a loud groan, covering his eyes. He knew she didn't like being locked up in the castle all the time, but such was the life of a princess, wasn't it? As her bodyguard, it was his job to enforce as much. Yes, he hated having to keep her under stuck strict rules, he wished it wasn't the case at all—but that came with the job, and this was a job he'd trust no other with.

Well, he didn't quite know where he was going yet, but he certainly couldn't stay. He hopped out the window as she surely had too, sometime prior. How long had he dozed off for, anyway? Link's heart and thoughts raced, trying to find some thought of where she'd have gone. He remembered their few conversations this same morning.

"Link, did you train hard this morning?"

"Link, did you have a good breakfast?"

"…Good morning, Link."

"Ah," he said to himself, never stopping his pursuit, though remembering how apprehensive she'd been from her nightmares. He recalled her asking him days before, the second or third time she'd had that same dream. "Should I go see someone? Osfala?" He'd instructed her otherwise, not only for the fact that she didn't have time for as much, but Link was still unsure how he felt in regards to Osfala as a wise man. In that—she purposed another. "Seres?"

That was it—she must've gone to see Seres! They were so close, after all. Her foot prints faded out against the paved ground, but they led in that same direction as the Sanctuary. Luckily, there'd be minimal danger there and the castle, but his steps only quickened from there.

* * *

><p>Finally, he'd arrived at the aforementioned church. He saw Dampé off in the distance, digging at one of the graves—but he didn't have time to stop to say good morning. He pushed past the large doors of the Sanctuary, only to find that the structure was vacant.<p>

"Seres?" he called out, taking a few slow steps down the isle. It was eerie, quiet, and dimly lit like always. "Princess Zelda?" There was no reply. Perhaps she wasn't here, after all. Suddenly, however, he was quick to learn that wasn't the case—as two gloved palms soon blocked out his vision. Someone was standing behind him, covering his eyes. He tensed up in reaction.

"Nice to see you, Sleepy Head!" a cute and familiar giggle echoed.

With an overly-relieved exhale, Link put a hand to his chest. "Thank the _goddesses_." He turned around, looking at her with his "disappointed" face. "Princess Zelda, how many times do I have to tell you—!"

She gave him a look of apology, or perhaps, just a look that she'd knew would get her off the hook; big, blue, doe-like eyes, glittering with pink eyeshadow she wore. "I'm sorry," Zelda whimpered, cutting him off, "b-but… if I told you, you wouldn't have let me leave."

Surely enough, as much as he wished he could've stayed strict with her, he was nearly a puddle of chu-jelly from her adorable apology. It was after a moment, but his expression softened to a weak smile. "It's alright," he told her, she smiled (in self-satisfaction, if nothing else,) "all that matters that I've found you. Now, we should really be getting back before Lady Impa notices I—"

"_Actually,_" she cut him off again, not giving Link the chance to try and drag her to the castle. "Mister Dampé said Seres isn't here right now, but she'd be back within an hour." Oh—oh_ no._ She had that look on her face again. Hardly needing to explain her meaning for him to already understand, she went on regardless, "I want to wait for her."

Looking defeated, frantically trying to help her see reason, he stuttered, "B-but, Princess—! You know that—!"

With a bright smile, she clasped her hands together, holding them up to her cheek. "You'll wait with me, won't you, Link?" she asked innocently. "It'd be horrid if someone came to attack me, and I was without my bodyguard."

He went silent, stiffening up. "N-nng…" he muttered, looking off to the side, even sweating a little bit in pressure. She acted as if it was a matter of _him_ staying—not herself! How manipulative. Zelda's hopeful demeanor did not change at all, it only brightened and overwhelmed his tension ten-fold.

Eventually, however, the taller man could only exhale. "Alright," he gave in, putting an hand on his hip, waving his finger, "but I mean it—_just_ for an hour, okay?_" _In return, Zelda giggled joyously, nodding her head.

The two sat down at one of the hall's pews; Link seemed defeated, quite in contrast to the princess, who was nothing but smiles and sunshine. Well, at least that was an up-side to this. She'd been sullen all morning. Surely that would have only continued, were they at the castle.

"I hope Seres can share some insight as to what's going on," Zelda thought aloud, the tone of her voice being surprisingly hopeful. "Maybe we can put a halt to all this uncertainty." That idea, too, was calming to Link.

"As do I. Seres's descendants have long been guides for your family, after all," he replied.

"I know!" she said cheerfully. "Surely she'll be able to help."

Link paused, seeing how high Zelda's hopes were. He would hate it more than anything, for her to be shot down in an instant. Knowing he should keep both their head out of the clouds, he reminded her, "But, please. Don't get ahead of yourself, Your Highness. She _is_ a Sage and a Priestess, but she's not all-knowing."

His words seem to hurt her a bit. "Ah," she curled her palm, holding her hand to her chest. "You're right."

Realizing he'd made her crestfallen, he apologized instantly. "But even if that's the case, we'll get to the bottom of it." He glanced at her in concern. "You have my word." In return, she only exhaled quietly. He'd always say as much, but did that ease her, at this moment? Zelda stared out the sanctuary's window, through the small opening in the curtains. A single ray of light reflected on the wall. That typical, not abnormal wall.

"Aren't you worried at all, Link?" she asked quietly. Her brows knit together softly, casting a look of concern. "Shouldn't we be doing more?"

He looked weak. "Of course I'm worried, but—they're just dreams, Princess Zelda," he replied, "For all we know, it might just be something in your subconscious." He put his hand on Zelda's shoulder, hoping the fact would reassure her. In return, however, she puffed out her cheeks—eyebrows knitting to a angered (albeit cute) look. He'd soon realized he'd said the wrong thing, as Zelda shied away in the slightest.

"You can be so insensitive sometimes," she muttered. She was of course upset that he'd, so simply, invalidated her concerns—but it was also in regards to what she knew was the truth. "It isn't just my subconscious." The princess paused, remembering a sullen fact she'd always deal with, "I dream things for a reason."

Her words jabbed him like several blows from a Moblin spear. Should anyone else have said them, he'd have not been as injured—but she was right. "I'm… I'm sorry, Your Grace," he said softly, removing his hand from her shoulder. He hung his head a bit, apologetically, and a weak smile never left his visage. Bold and unafraid to admit his feelings, he told her, "Perhaps I'll just believe anything to rid myself of the worry that you'll go on hurting." Suddenly, Zelda, too, felt apologetic.

She turned back to him, entertaining a weak expression. Back to her usual friendly and kind nature, she told him, "It's alright."

He exhaled in relief, sure to remind her of his feelings. "But, I mean it," said Link, "I _am_ worried about them, too. Don't think that isn't the case."

Zelda laughed a little. "I know you are, Silly." She pointed to the blue and black striped scarf hanging loosely around his neck. "I don't think you'd be wearing that, if you weren't."

An affectionate expression crossed his face, he gripped the fabric of the garment. Her words rang true.

Link closed his eyes, recalling the face of the friend he'd come to know, all those years ago—the one whom this very scared paid homage to. Or rather, instead of a "face", Link only recalled the mask he was used to seeing. It still didn't automatically register to Link, that Ravio and he were identical—only separated by their light-and-dark contrast. "Yeah," he said quietly. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the princess' wrist.

"Just as I don't think you'd always be wearing that, either."

She adorned a less-than pristine bracelet. It was a once saturated, though now-dull purple. In the middle was an eye-like symbol, it was gold. Like many things in Lorule, Ravio's bracelet had a counterpart in Hyrule as well. It'd been resting with the royal family for years, none knew its meaning—that was, until those events years ago. The princess tapped her fingertips to the item she adorned.

"Do you really think we'll ever be able to see them again?" she asked quietly, albeit with a sort of optimism. It wasn't the first time she'd wondered such a question.

Naturally, he replied, "From the bottom of my heart, Princess Zelda."

"Hm…" she pondered, still unsure if she was so convinced. Perking up, the princess looked to the ceiling. "I wonder how their lives have been otherwise?" she thought aloud. "Are they different? Are they happy? Are they successful?"

Link laughed, seeming actually humored. "Well, I'm sure Ravio is!" he said, if only from personal, previous knowledge of Ravio's "success".

Zelda giggled. "You always speak so fondly of him," she noted, "I wish I could've known him better. He seemed so gracious."

"Eh?" Link tilted his head. Perhaps he spoke fondly of Ravio—but he wasn't sure he'd ever use the word "gracious" when describing him. "But he took my money."

Zelda laughed again, correcting him. "Well, yes, perhaps—but wasn't he a kind fellow otherwise? Even I could see how dedicated he was to Princess Hilda—just like you are to me." She had a certain fondness in her voice. "He cared for her dearly, don't you think?" To which Link then held a warm smile. If Ravio felt anything near what he felt for Zelda…

"Yeah," he replied, not-so absently making mention to add, "if that's the case, he must really love her."

As without missing a beat, the princess' cheeks turned as pink as the gem on her crown. Her breath hitched, and she looked as though she were about to stutter her reply—but she was cut off by the sound of Link's soft laughter.

"My apologizes, Princess Zelda," he told her quickly, seeing her flustered, "that was out of line."

"…H-huh?" Zelda said, as he was so quick to take back his comment. "No, I wasn't—!" she tried to correct him.

"Perhaps it's best if I wait outside," he replied, abruptly cutting her off. The princess almost seemed hurt.

"Then may I wait with you there?" she asked quickly, looking optimistic.

Ultimately, he shook his head. "No. The sun is at its peak, you should stay in here."

What a lame excuse, she thought. "But I love the sun."

"It's hard on your completion," he said stubbornly.

"Link, please—"

"As your bodyguard, I must even protect your skin." He rose to his feet and turned, walking back down the isle. "Surely Seres will be here soon, and perhaps it's best if you two talk alone. I haven't much to add anyway." Such cold words nearly hurt her, but there was no offense laced in his voice. He was simply speaking what he thought was true, like usual.

To that, Princess Zelda was downcast—cast aside so easily. Despite that, however, she perked up regardless. As her body guard, Link surely knew what was best, and she'd always respect his wishes as her equal. "If you insist."

He was nearly out the door before adding, "Ah," he looked over his shoulder, catching Zelda's interest. Had he changed his mind? Sadly, that hope went out the window as he was quick to add, "but please don't cause more trouble while we're here."

Those words seemed somewhat humorous. Even if he'd cast her aside, she'd perked up to her usual, friendly self. "Alright," she said, emitting a smile like sunshine. "I'll behave."

He exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

The moment the door closed behind him, she let her façade drop. She was melancholic once again. With her head lowered, she looked down to her lap. To the sound of the door closing, Link's words rang in her mind. Almost physically pained, she put a palm to her chest. "He must really love her."

Love. She really, really hated that word. She dwelled on it, and on him. Perhaps it was only for a few minutes, but being alone with her thoughts was overwhelming. Yes. Link really loved her. She was well-aware. She was countless _lifetimes_ well-aware.

An anxious, never fading smile remained on her face. "Every time you say that, it estranges us even more." She had said, hoping to convince herself she could just throw the blame on him. But in the bottom of her heart, she sincerely knew who's fault it actually was. She knew who'd driven them from being the closest for friends—to nothing more than, "princess and bodyguard."

It was none other than herself.

Just as they'd been separated from Hilda and Ravio—Link and Zelda themselves, were in two different worlds.

And it was unbearable, guilting, lonely, and—

Suddenly (however ironically to her relief,) the princess heard a loud, whizzing sound in the air. It was almost frightening, though familiar at the same time. Her breath hitched and she stood to her feet, catching sight of the thing emitting this awful sound. On the far side of the church, towards where the priest usually stood—the wall shifted and warped. It almost looked like it was cracked, but Zelda soon realized that was not a normal crevice. It began to seep a rainbow of saturated colors, along with an eerie, black ooze. Her eyes widened with alarm and confusion.

It was a portal to Lorule.


End file.
